The Guardianship
by K. Ashley
Summary: Just when Pippin thought his andventurous days were over, he is called upon to take on the guardianship of the mysterious Princess Adalia. (Sheepish A/N: I haven't finished the third book in the real trilogy YET, so please excuse any inconsistencies, and


Pippin straightened up and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. He surveyed his work with a proud smile. He was no Sam Gamgee, of course, but he had to admit that his garden was a lovely one. The late afternoon sun glittered on the many-colored flowers, while a gentle breeze whipped it's way over the ferns and through Pippin's mop of curls. His attention was torn suddenly from his garden when the rickety-rack of wagon wheels sounded coming up the lane.

Pippin hurried around to the front of his hill and gazed down the cobbled street, shading his eyes with his hand. He could just make out the wagon, and giving a little gasp, sprinted inside to clean up. No sooner had he changed into fresh knickers and splashed his dirty face with water than his visitor rapped smartly on the door. "I'm coming!" Pippin shouted, giving his hair a last tousle and straightening his suspenders.

He hurried to the door and pulled it open. "Oh, dear," Pippin sighed as he backed away to allow room for his guest to enter. 

"And what sort of greeting is that for an old friend, Peregrin Took?" Gandalf chuckled as he lowered his grey head to enter the low hallway of Pippin's home. Pippin gave a half-hearted smile as he hugged the old wizard around the waist.

"Sorry, Gandalf," he said, "but you weren't at all the company I was expecting."

"And who were you expecting, my dear Took?" asked Gandalf, his warm smile shining through the long, silver tangle of beard that hung near to the floor. Pippin's cheeks reddened slightly.

"If you must know, I was expecting the company of a lady this evening for supper," he said. Gandalf chuckled again and shook his lowered head.

"Ah, then I fear my tidings will not suit you in the least," he said. 

"And do they ever?" Pippin asked, only half jokingly. 

Gandalf nodded his understanding. "Yes, I am aware that too often I come bearing unwelcome errands," he said. "But, what must be must be. I am sorry, Pippin, but I am afraid this supper with your lady friend shall have to be postponed."

Pippin shook his head and backed away from the wizard. "No, Gandalf, no. I've had my adventures, and more than I would have liked, make no mistake. And now I want to stay here and live my life nice and quietly in the Shire. No more of your scheming, no more wars, I'm just not cut out for such things, and you know it as much as I know it! Now if you'll kindly excuse me, I've got a supper to prepare for a special lady, so thank you very much Mr. Stormcrow, but no thank you indeed!" Even as Pippin went on in his tirade, Gandalf led him by the hand out the door and onto the wagon. Realizing his defeat and not wanting to argue with the sharp look emerging from under the wizard's bushy brows, Pippin's rant faded to muttering as Gandalf took a seat beside him on the wagon and urged the horses forward. 

"Believe me, dear Pippin," said Gandalf, "I don't want your help any more than you want to give it! I have not forgotten the meddlesome trouble you've caused me in the past, but I am gravely afraid that there is no one for this errand but you, my boy."

There was a time when Pippin's young heart would have leapt at being so needed by such a grand wizard, but today it felt as though it were sinking into his stomach. There was something foreboding lurking beyond the cheerful expression on Gandalf's deeply rutted face. So, as the wagon rattled further and further away from his hobbit hole, Pippin sat in sad silence, awaiting his doom.

Gandalf didn't say a word about where they were going or why. He kept his gaze steadily forward, looking out from underneath the wide brim of his pointed hat. Pippin dared not ask what his errand might be. Indeed, he feared the question. He knew all too well the dark sorts of errands Gandalf Stormcrow was called to, and he wished with all his small frame that none of it involved him.

It seemed as though they drove on for hours in silence, with nothing but the rattle of the wooden wheels to interrupt Pippin's thoughts. The sun had long set when finally Gandalf steered the horses into a small glen, where a little cottage stood with windows glowing in the darkness. It was quite an unimpressive sight. Pippin looked questioningly at Gandalf.

"Manners, Peregrin, remember your manners," Gandalf murmured. "When you enter this house, you shall be in the presence of a very important person. Look smart."

"Oh, great," Pippin replied as he clambered down from the wagon, "as if I wasn't nervous enough to begin with!" The two made their way up to the small door of the cottage, and Gandalf gave a tap with his staff. Light footfalls could be heard within, and soon the door was opened.

Pippin's eyes fell then upon perhaps the most strange and beautiful creature he had ever beheld. She had dark, thick hair that cascaded down to her waist, dazzling green eyes, the fairest of skin, and a sharp depth to her countenance that made Pippin feel as though she could see through him. Something about her made her seem very tall and powerful, so much so that it took a moment for Pippin to realize that she was no taller than he. And yet she was not a hobbit. At least, Pippin didn't think so. Though she was small, she did not carry the features of a hobbit - her feet were quite dainty, her hair very straight, and her frame thin. She wore a thin gown of white silk, and her hair seemed to float about even though there was no breeze. She gave a slight bow to Gandalf and cast a quick glance at Pippin.

"Gandalf Stormcrow, I presume?" she asked with a voice like rippling water. Pippin thought there must be something Elfish in her. She gestured them into the cottage and closed the door behind them. Gandalf turned to her and clapped a hand on Pippin's shoulder.

"Your Highness, I have brought you a guardian," he said quite seriously. "Peregrin Took, meet Princess Adalia." Pippin gulped and gave a quavering bow to the princess, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. Had Gandalf just introduced him as a _guardian?_

Adalia regarded Pippin with measure, her glowing eyes searching for any flaw, any mark of incompetence. Pippin waited, breathless, for her to shun him in disgust, but to his great surprise, she smiled at him. It was a smile unlike any Pippin had ever seen. The very sunshine seemed to emit from it, and the air around seemed to warm at its presence. "The road is long and winding, Peregrin Took," Adalia said evenly. "Dare I entrust my life to you?"

Pippin's eyes widened at the question. He was about to say that if he were in her place, he shouldn't dare, but Gandalf spoke first. "You will find none more trustworthy than he, Highness," the great wizard said, and Pippin couldn't help but delight in the praise. Adalia looked satisfied with the answer, and she pulled a scarlet cloak off the hook near the door. Draping it about her shoulders, she locked Pippin's gaze with hers.

"Very well, then, my guardian," she said to him, "let us tarry no longer where it is not safe. We shall begin the journey at once." With that, Pippin was led out of the cottage and onto the moonlit road. He turned to question Gandalf, but found that his advisor had vanished. It seemed that now the guardianship really was in Pippin's trembling hands.


End file.
